A Trip Down Memory Lane
by april12b
Summary: Okay. We are okay. So What! Sam's suddenly behaving like a child. We are peachy! Hi, My name is Dean Winchester and this is my little brother Sammy...
1. Chapter 1

How do a 37-year-old man can break your heart just by pouting?

Oh no! I am one tough son of a bitch! I can behead a rogue vampire with one swift move without even hesitating. You would be amazed how I can kill demons just by a sharp kick to the gut and a demon-killing bullet to the head. To the head, mind you! I am a man with a cooking skill most chefs would be jealous of. And yeah, maybe sometimes I lack the bookish knowledge of my geek brother on every supernatural related or unrelated thing there is to know about. But when it comes to myths and local lore I can kick Sam' ass!

No. Not anymore. I can't kick his ass.

What has life come to now!

When you can't prank your brother!

When you can't ridicule for his music tastes!

What's the point in living a life where no-teasing Sammy has been issued! Guess what by whom?

By me! Yeah, by this pathetic softie!

Okay. Where was I?

Oh, yeah, how can a 37-year-old man break your heart just by pouting? Because right now my heart is breaking. The most dangerous badass killing machine of both angels and demons alike (hey I don't discriminate) have to hug and cuddle his brother. The pouting has started a moment ago when I refused to cuddle.

Hi, my name is Dean Winchester and this is my little brother Sammy.

And he just woke up from a horrible nightmare and I have to soothe him just like I had to do when I was 10 years old.

Because Sam's mind has reverted to a five-year-old boy while physically he'll still remind you of a moose (ah! Crowley! We miss you, buddy. Your mother rules the throne now. Will that make you happy? Ummm, maybe not).

Anyway now Sammy has tears that are trimming down his face and he wants a hug. From me.

And he mocks me for still having "I wuuve hugs" T-shirt! Huh! Figures!

_**Previously… Three days ago,**_

It was just run in the mill Werewolves hunting. Sammy and I were handling it just fine. So what one of the weres was this close to biting Sam's neck and maybe my side was clawed too. But we're handling it just fiiine. There were three, we took down one in a matter of seconds. Okay. Maybe it was minutes. But who's counting?

Anyway. Now, where was I? Yeah, so Sam was fighting with one as I was with another. Sam killed that one ultimately and I was distracted by the wound on my side but I drove that knife right through his heart. But in the meantime one that we thought we killed at the beginning of our hunting was not so dead. He was coming after me with a wooden chair, directed at my head and my back was to him. So I didn't hear a thing but Sam did. And that fool instead of attacking the wolf came between the Were and me. The Were didn't hesitate and at the shout of Sam's warning, I turned around. But it was too late…

Wooden chips shattered against Sammy's left side of the head. And he went down. Right in front of my eyes. Unmoving, so still… laid there my Sammy. Sam who got hurt because of me. As usual all I saw Sam on the ground and the cause of it before me was sneering. I put all of the silver bullets left in my gun into that son of a bitch.

I am man enough to admit that I was scared. Sam was unconscious and I tried to wake him up. But it resulted in a hyperventilating me and no signal to call 911. It has been almost seven minutes and under bruises and cuts to the left side of his face, I couldn't detect any injury in the head. But there was a very thin line of blood trickling down his left ear. That was enough for me to panic. I was just about to pray to Jack when his eyes fluttered open and he groggily looked around for his whereabouts.

I kept rubbing his mop of hair and tried to coax into full wakefulness.

The first thing he said when he came to was, "What the hell Dean? What were you thinking?" And he tried to sit up with a sour look on his face.

Okay… not so groggy then!

But I kept my mouth shut as a good big brother should and kept saying to a disoriented Sammy to take it easy.

Sam was like a dog with a bone! "Where was your attention, Dean? That Were could've killed you! The last words sounded like a shriek!

Now, I wasn't so good big brother. I was angry brother now. I pointed to my clawed and bloody side and said, "My attention was here. And who told you to throw yourself at me instead of attacking the Were? You moron!

By the time my statement was finished (okay, it was more like yelling) Sam's eyes have gone soft, regret and guilt took place of righteous anger. I never meant to make him feel guilty after all the kid took a big hit for me. Now I was feeling guilty for yelling at my wounded brother who just saved me. It's like feeling guilty is our default mode!

However, a grumbling Sam was constantly massaging his left side and whispering under his breath, "You're a moron!"

"I heard that!" I said.

Sam at least looked sheepish but continued his journey to sit up and explain himself, "I just saw he was going to hurt you and my brain kind of froze…"

Now, that I could understand. Even after all these years of hunting when it comes to saving our brothers, we make insane choices! Like me making a deal with a demon or Sam's drinking demon blood just to avenge my death!

But still. I took his arm and helped him get up, "Making knee-jerk choices is my speciality, not yours!"

Sam just snorted and we moved towards Baby...

_**To be continued**_

_**Note: I hope you enjoy reading the story. Have a great day/night...**_


	2. Chapter 2

The drive back home was filled with 'God was never on your side. Never, never, never!'

The throbbing in my head was just starting to recede and now this!

I mean, seriously Dean! I bitched to myself! There's no point in talking to him for changing the music. Over the years as I have tailed him like a puppy to a full-grown man-hound, I have learnt three things.

You don't mess with his music.

You don't mess with his pie.

And you don't mess with his Baby!

And with me I guess.

A soft chuckle escaped me and caught the attention of my rambunctious brother. Something about killing Weres and eating very unhealthy diner food makes him giddy.

He turned to me smiling with all his glorious blue teeth from eating the remnants of blueberry pie and asked, "What's funny?" Then immediately turned serious, "You okay?

I looked at him. My only kin. My best friend, my brother, a partner in crime. The only person who has been a witness to every twist and turn I made. Yeah, he's made his mistakes and so have I but we always came out the other side. Together.

And looking at him, I thought what would I have done if you were gone today huh! Instead, I said, "I'm good."

Dean continued chewing and said, "You don't look so good, man!"

I shouted, "Yeah because I got hit by a rotten chair on the head. Again!" I softened slightly as I saw the guilty look in his eyes, "Besides you checked me. Concussion free!" I flung my hands in the air as a gesture of hurrah.

Dean gulped down his food and said, "But you've got that face!"

"What face?"

"That face when I drink all the coffee and you have to leave your cocoon to buy more!"

"Don't even start about looks man! You have pie crumbs all over your face!" I asked incredulously and reached for one," Even in your hair dude!" And threw it away.

Dean started to smile knowingly.

"Worked? Didn't it?"

"What?"

"Whatever messed up curry you were cooking there", pointing towards my head, "didn't smell too good. And I stopped it before it overcooked and spilt and you would have shut down your kitchen!"

I smiled to myself and said, "Only you could associate a situation like this with food!" The smile never left but the neverending fear of losing him stayed. And it will forever.

Just then the lyrics of the song, "...only abandoned in the end" came floating through the radio.

I rolled my head, banged it on my window (didn't help with the headache though) and Dean turned into serious damage control/console Sammy mode. Like I am a baby. (Much later though, I concluded maybe I shouldn't have said that!")

"Listen to me, Sam!"

"Don't Dean." I raised my hand defeatedly and stopped him, "If making knee-jerk choices is your department then being hopelessly optimistic in crappy situations is kind of my forte!"

Dean huffed and grumbled, "And being a smartass!"

"I heard that!"

And he mimicked me in a mocking tone, "I heard that."

"Real mature Dean. Real mature"

He smirked, "Whatever…"

Silence followed us for some time just like it always does when we deal with our noises. Or is it Chuck's plotline too? Intervals between events. We're his favourite show, after all, I thought bitterly.

Killing Dean and leaving me all alone.

The attack from before was replaying in my mind over and over. It doesn't happen often. Dean has gotten hurt before or has been trapped and I have been worried too. Not to this degree though. Because now we know that Chuck was always the chess master and we're his pawns. Though everyone thinks that Dean's the protector, himself included, that he wouldn't survive to lose me. But Chuck knows better and so do I. Dean keeps me sane. But he's also the one I have to protect in order to protect me and others. My past can prove that.

The constant fear of losing him and dad drove me away from them firstly. Yes, I hated hunting. I still do at a certain level. It's not an adrenaline rush for me. It's my responsibility and purpose for being here. But without Dean… There's just no point. And Chuck knows it and if he uses it against us, we're done for.

I have always believed in God. But when the last threads of naivety left me, I knew that He had left us to our own devices a long time ago. But, I never thought of him as the cruel and uncaring monsters that we deal with every day. The only difference is He's like Tardigrades, never easy to kill.

My grimace must have been epic because Dean looked at me once, focused on the road again and said, "Are you hurting?"

I couldn't say that no I was comparing our scenario with video games. So I said, " No. But can you turn the volume down, please? I want to get some sleep."

"Sure!" He turned it down, looked at me again with concern. I, as usual, ignored his stare, folded my coat into a makeshift pillow and rested my head against the window.

I closed my eyes and cleared my thoughts about Chuck. We'll deal with him when the time comes. Maybe I lost my faith in Him but not in my family. With that conviction, I fell into a sweet slumber.

* * *

When I was jerked awake, we were at the side of the road, Dean was shaking me vigorously like a tambourine, and screaming in my ear. I couldn't understand a thing that he was saying. My perplexed eyes landed on him first and then on my bloody nails.

"What happened?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"You tell me! You scared the bejeezus out of me! You were sleeping for like half an hour and the next thing I know you're murmuring something about failure, rocking, thrashing and scratching ears like there are ants in there biting you! Look what you did!"

His panicked eyes compelled me to touch my ears which came out bloody...

The ghost of the word failure reverberated through my mind like someone's whisper while the people I have failed so many times throughout the years lingered in my misty eyes… I left wondering whether it was Chuck projecting his thoughts again or it's my nightmare and the truth of my cruel joke of a life!

_**Note: Thank you so much to those who reviewed, followed or favourited the story. As you must know, they give the push when you need it the most. Thank you so much for reading. I am so grateful and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Have a great day/night. :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Back**_ _**to**_ _**the present**_

Sammy's lower lip was trembling, his fists clenched tight and his face was covered with tears. I have never seen him like this. Except when he was a kid. What do I do now?

I edged towards his bed and sat on the side. I automatically started to pull him to me, cradle his head in my chest and started to stroke his back. He was curled up in a fetal position, arms tightening around my waist. One hiccuping breath after another from him drove me to tighten my hold more and my eyes start to burn.

I suppose I knew what to do even after all this time.

"Hurts...De…" Sam said in a childlike voice.

"What hurts Sammy?"

"Everybody's dying," he started to sob violently.

This time I couldn't hold back… tears came because I couldn't help Sam. Yet he's depending on his big brother.

After a minute of rocking him back and forth, I said in a soft tone that I never thought I had in me, "It was just a nightmare Sammy. I'm here. We're all here."

You just have to break your wall, come out and see… I thought.

He clenched the back of my shirt harder and fiercely shook his head, "Mommy died, then Jess and then Daddy was on the floor." At this point, he was wailing.

I clutched him tighter, "Shhh, shhh, yea yeah but see I'm still here. I will never leave you, Sammy."

I was crying. I just couldn't bear the thought of all that pain balled inside of him for all these years. I could feel it before but he never shared it with me. Not in any way that could clue me into thinking that this could happen eventually…

He nags me all the time to talk and talk but very often he does that himself. I was angry at him and sad for him. I, who can show his calm in the middle of storms, can't handle these emotions. Because Sam's emotions are linked to me and they are going haywire!

After what felt like aeons, Sam stopped crying. Somewhere along the away, I did too.

He removed his vice-like hold, cleaned his nose on his shirt sleeves and I grimaced while he started to rub his tear-soaked eyes.

"How about some pancakes, huh?" I smiled at him.

He looked up from his t-shirt which was now soaked too with sweat and tears and a wobbly smile tugged at his lip.

I got up from the bed and offered my hand as a good, dutiful big brother and Sam, petulant, bratty man-child that he is, swatted my hand away, "I am not a baby De."

His bottom lip was turned low, his fists were still closed tight, he was talking in a child-like voice and I just internally rolled my eyes and said through a smile, "Sure, you're not!"

I turned back towards the bedroom door but kept an eye at him like always.

Just as I about to cross the threshold, Sam's soft yet determined voice ricocheted through the room, "You weren't always there, Dean."

And my whole world screeched to a halt. Because yes, I have failed him many times over the years. What should I say now to console a Sam whose mind is not that mature and understanding as it was three days ago...

* * *

_**Three days ago, back in the car...**_

I repeated, "You scared the bejeezus out of me Sammy! My BP is not going to be normal at this rate!"

To this Sam replied as always, "I am sorry."

It took every ounce of my will not to yell at him again as he looked so broken. To me, he'll always be my little brother whom I have to protect.

I said calmly, "I don't want you to be sorry Sam. I want you to tell me what the hell happened."

He shrugged, "Nightmare."

"Nightmare like that forced you to almost cut your ears off. Okay. We're going to the E.R."

At this, he placed his hand on my wrist to stop me from driving and said, "Let's go home, Dean. I'm tired. Besides, Cass is there. He could fix me up better than any doctor could."

I considered that for a second and nodded once.

"Okay. But if I see any weirdness in you than usual, I'm taking you to the hospital whether you want to or not!"

Sam just scoffed…

"What? You think I can't do it?"

"I'm not nine anymore Dean," He rolled his eyes.

I smirked, "You are maybe a Gigantor now but you still are my little brother and if you don't want gum on your hair before you woke up tomorrow, then you better believe it."

"You wouldn't!" Glaring Sam was just too adorable. (And I would not admit that I used words like adorable even if you hexed me!)

"Wouldn't I though?" I just looked at him smiling before turning my eyes to the road.

Sam's shoulders slumped. He sulked for a bit, mumbled words like "bossy" and "short" in-between came at me.

I just basked in my victory. Because I am awesome like that.

After a few minutes of silence, I couldn't take it, "So where are we on the whole hospital deal? Yes or no?"

"Yes, Dad!" Came the reply through clenched teeth.

At the same moment, the radio blasted out, _"One way or another I'm gonna find ya. I'm gonna getcha getcha getcha getcha…"_

And I just full-on cracked up, couldn't hold it in, tears were forming on the corners of my eyes.

As I turned towards Sammy. He was desperately trying to hold back a laugh but his dimples told me otherwise. At last, he was at his wit's end too. He said through muffled laughter, "Turn that shit off!"

Begrudgingly, I silenced Blondie. But, I was laughing hard too...

TBC...

**_Note: I am very sorry for the delay on the update. I am almost always sick, physically or mentally. So, I can't write frequently as I would like to. I am so grateful that at least some of you are following/enjoying the story. I apologize in advance because I don't know when I'll be able to update again if anyone is interested anyway. But, I promise you this that I will finish this story, no matter what. Again, thank you so much for reading, reviewing. Hope, you will enjoy this one too. Anyway, take care guys... Be well! :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Three days prior**

It all happened so gradually. Even, I hadn't noticed it at first. Okay. I know that I'm confusing you now, let me backtrack a little bit.

*_Imagine tape or CD rewinding noise right here*_

So, when we reached the bunker, you know after Sam was half dead because he stupidly jumped between me and a Were and almost gave me a heart attack by passing out and then a mini-stroke due to his manifestation and representation of horrifying nightmare, Sammy was alright and at home.

I was alright too. Thank you for asking.

Now the change came the next morning. And it was a subtle change, and guess who noticed it!

Jack! That mighty mouse, the follower of all things Sam, caught the first glimpse of Sammy's regression. Thus, starts the whole debacle of Team Free Will three and a half!

The morning after the hunting began as usual with grumbling and aching me waiting patiently for his coffee to just brew the hell already. Though Cass healed me and Sam the night before but the aftereffects…well, it affects a lot more than before. Hey, I'm not 20 anymore and still kicking aaaa, I mean butt, so give me a break! (Jack's right here slurping his sugar, yeah it's more sugar than coffee. What can I say, the kid wants what the kid wants. And Sam's still not here, so syrupy coffee for breakfast it is.)

Sam came to the kitchen and was almost like bouncing on his feet. Oh good, he must have had a nightmare free night for once! My coffee was finally ready, I turned towards the machine and poured myself and Sam two cups of heaven. As I sat on the chair where Sam was vibrating with Jack and Jack's brows were furrowed in confusion, looking at Sam like he was trying to solve the problem of humanity.

Which hey he might be! He might be two but the life he leads is almost like he's 30 years old! And half of the time I can't understand him. Sometimes he's like a kid, learning about new things around him, the next thing I know he's sucking the soul/grace thingy from Michael to save us! So yeah, understanding him is Sam's department. Mr all serious and deep all time! Now if you want to have real fun, I am your man and the kid knows it too. How do you think he got away with syrupy coffee? Huh?

But now it's not the time to discuss my awesomeness. Stop distracting me!

Now is the time to think about why the furrowed brows are directed at Sam. I looked at Sam and sipped my coffee but I couldn't notice any difference right away. Okay, so he was smiling a little brighter than other days. A lot brighter actually. So what!

"Had a good night Sammy?" I smiled into my cup, thinking about what kind of dreams he might have instead of nightmares.

"Yeah! Books, lots of books!" Sam's eyes were sparkling! Enthusiasm was dripping from every word!

Figures, I thought. Having good times with books- I shuddered at the thought.

At that same time, Jack spoke, "Dean, something's wrong." Now he was looking really concerned.

"What?" I straightened at his tone of voice.

"It's Sam. Something's not right with…"

But Sammy bit him to it, "Hey can I have your syrupy coffee? Please." Jack looked at me so Sam mimicked his motion and now four puppy dog eyes were looking at me, only the expressions were different. One was begging and the other one was just simply confused which I guessed perfectly matched with how I felt.

As I was processing all of this, Sam asked, "Can I De?" Dimples were digging deeper than usual, smiling brightly like a freaking Sun and knees were bouncing with tapping fingers on the table in anticipation. But those were not important. It's the name 'De' that perked my Sammy-antenna right up!

It was the name he used to call me when he was 5 or 6 years old...or he does when he's severely hurt. Or on drugs. But how could that be? Was it the hit on his head yesterday? No, that can be. Cass healed us. And Sam was perfectly fine when he went to bed. Then what happened?

But Sam was on a knight's journey for breakfast, "Can I De?" Now he was full-on whining, "and Lucky Charms! Pleasssse De. I'll be good I promise."

"Dean?" Jack was bordering on panic now.

"Yeah, not good," Sam's bottom lip turned downwards at that, "so not good," I said with a shaking head and a sinking heart.

"Why? Don't you have Lucky Charms? I'll share with all of you, I promise. I will even give you the prize Dean. But I want lucky charms!" With that, he stomped his feet under the table. Okay! Did he just stomp his feet? What the hell was happening here? I was starting to freak out. Was he under a witch's spell? Was one of the Weres was into witchcraft? My mind was running faster than my Baby and that's saying something!

But, before anything understandable could come out of my mouth, Jack spoke up, "Sorry we don't have that," and at Sam's pouting (And Sam is POUTING!) Jack quickly covered up with sliding his own brand of coffee, "here, have some of this. It's really awesome."

Yeah, Jack is a Winchester alright because Sam's whole face lit up just like that, damage control is in his blood or something.

As my mind was in a whirlpool, Jack said again, "And we also have Krunch Cookie Krunch! They're delicious!"

"Really?" Sam was ecstatic about food. Sugary food on top of that. He was speaking in shrilled high pitched voice, like a… crap! Like a child.

"But you don't like them so much because it's not healthy for your teeth" and then he proceeded to show all 24 of his pearls with all its glory.

Sam just giggled at the show of the teeth and scoffed at the same time, "Me? I love anything sweet! It's De who doesn't let me."

I tuned out the rest of the conversation. Because yeah Sam used to love food and sweets as a kid. I don't know what happened with that and he became a health-nut and I don't know what's happening now?"

Sam's booming laughter paused the rolling of my thoughts. And something tightened in my chest because I haven't heard that laugh for over a decade. While it was a good sound, it was not a good situation. Absolutely not good...

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_**Note: I am so grateful to all of you who reached out to me and let me know that you're enjoying it. It takes time for me as I have mentioned before. But, I truly appreciate that you are with me and still want more. Thank you so much for that. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Let me know how are you liking or disliking it if you can. Stay Safe. Be well:) **_


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